


safe place

by excentricAnthropologist



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Anxiety, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff, Frottage, Light Dom/sub, Mental Health Issues, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Adventure Zone: Nights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 11:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12058059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/excentricAnthropologist/pseuds/excentricAnthropologist
Summary: It is rare for Tom to truly feel safe.





	safe place

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [safe with you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10440597) by [kismetNemesis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kismetNemesis/pseuds/kismetNemesis), [Sacalow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sacalow/pseuds/Sacalow). 



It is rare for Tom to truly feel safe.

It’s of no consequence where he is, how good of a reputation the establishment or street he’s visiting has. No matter what he tells himself, no matter how much he tries to assuage his own catastrophizing brain, there is always a part of him that expects the worst. He’s constantly on edge, wound as tight as a coil and poised to fight or flee at a moment’s notice.

It’s exhausting, and embarrassing.

Still, there are a few places where he is able to feel a semblance of peace. His bar is one of them; despite the fact that his establishment occasionally attracts the odd disagreeable patron, it’s one of the few places where he is able to escape the nigh-constant threat of danger. Unlike the chaos of the rest of the world, his bar allows him to be the one in charge. It is _his_ bar, _he_ is the one who calls the shots, _he_ has final say over who comes in and what goes on. It’s this sense of control that allows Tom to relax a little bit more than usual whenever he’s working.

The Beasts’ headquarters is another place that is able to somewhat quell Tom’s nerves. The place has more security than anywhere else Tom’s had the pleasure of calling home, and he knows that the many members of the Ring that he has come to trust will do their best to protect him in the face of any threat.

Yet for all the security they offer, neither his bar nor the Beasts allow him to completely escape his constant trepidation. Even when he feels mortally safe, he is always afraid of something else. A social blunder, a fatal mistake… his mind is perpetually whirring with all the ways any situation could go wrong, from the most dire life-or-death circumstance to the smallest social interaction.

Some days Tom fears he may go mad from dread.

But…

There is somewhere Tom is able to truly feel at ease, one place where he can let go of all of his fears and anxieties and simply _be_. It’s somewhere Tom never imagined he’d find, and every time he visits he has to convince himself that he’s not dreaming.

Although, some _where_ isn’t really the right word to describe this safe place.

Rather, she is some _one_.

Thighs corded thick with muscle press against the sides of Tom’s face as he moves his mouth against slick heat. Soft sighs fill his ears, and those sighs turn into gasps when he flicks his tongue in a certain way.

“Tom, you are wonderful, _yes_ , there, please…” Troth’s voice is breathy and pleading, so different from its usual even, stoic nature. Tom hums in response and presses his head in harder, tightens his grip around Troth’s hips for leverage. She moans and arches her back, grinds against Tom’s mouth. A string of disjointed “ _yes_ ”s and “ _Tom_ ”s tumble broken from her lips, and she shudders when Tom slips his tongue deep inside her.

Clawed fingers work their way into Tom’s hair, so gentle in their touch. Tom knows that Troth is restraining herself, holding back her incredible strength for his benefit, and he shivers when he thinks of just how powerful Troth truly is. She could easily smother Tom with the thighs he currently lies between; she probably wouldn’t even break a sweat. But no, Troth would never, _could_ never do such a thing. For all her power Troth is a hundred times more warmhearted, and it shows in her lovemaking. She loves being gentle with Tom, loves taking care of him, loves holding him close and covering him with kisses and caresses. Troth’s tenderness seems to know no limits when it comes to Tom, and his heart swells at the soft touch of her hand in his hair.

“Tom…” Troth’s voice is but a hoarse whisper now. Her head lolls to the side and her eyes squeeze shut as her grip on Tom’s hair tightens. The pull on his scalp makes Tom shiver, and he whimpers when her claws graze along his hairline.

Troth inhales through an open mouth, her breath shallow and shaky. “Tom… my Tom…”

The possessive enters Tom’s ear and seems to slide down his spine to settle in his groin. He doubles his efforts, sliding his hands to the small of Troth’s back so he can lean in further, lick and kiss and suck with heightened fervor. Tom listens as Troth’s words grow more and more broken, and he moans against her when she comes with a soft cry and her fingers threaded in his hair.

Tom pulls away gently and turns his face into Troth’s thigh, presses a long kiss there while Troth catches her breath. Soon her heaving chest slows to a mere rise and fall, and she tugs at Tom’s shoulders. He follows her request, rising from between her legs to curl against her side.

Troth’s skin still shines with sweat, and Tom reaches out to wipe at her brow. Troth’s eyes open lazily at the touch; her eyes meet Tom’s, and she smiles. She pulls him in for a kiss, paying no heed to the traces of her still lingering on his lips.

“Tom, friend, that was wonderful,” she says with a nuzzle to his cheek. “You are so good to me.”

Tom allows himself to smile. “I sure do try.” He’d never gone down on a partner before Troth, but he’s getting pretty good at it, if he does say so himself.

Troth chuckles. “My Tom…”

She pulls him in for another kiss, deeper than the last. “Let me be good to you, now,” she murmurs against his lips, and her hand smooths down his front, fingers trailing through the dusting of hair on his lower abdomen. At first Tom thinks Troth means to take him in hand and get him off that way, but instead he suddenly finds himself pinned under her, her forearms on either side of his head and her hips flush against his. She grinds against him, and he whines at the much-appreciated friction.

Troth sets a rhythm, small circles of her hips against Tom’s cock that cause his desire to build slowly but steadily. Her hair falls around their faces like a curtain, so that all Tom can see when he opens his eyes is her smiling face.

“You are so beautiful, Tom,” Troth purrs, her eyes soft with affection. Tom swallows, feeling his cheeks burn. If anyone else were to say those words to Tom he would think they were mocking him, but Troth is never anything but honest. Tom has no choice but to believe every declaration of affection that tumbles uninhibited from her lips, and he grows lightheaded every time. Now is no exception; his heart flutters and he feels as though he may float away at any second, so he winds his limbs around Troth’s back and holds onto her tightly as she continues to rock her hips against him.

Those hips soon begin to pick up speed, and Tom whimpers into Troth’s shoulder. Troth hums; she loves it when Tom makes noise in bed. She presses her open mouth against his neck, laves her tongue over his pulse point before taking the delicate skin between her teeth. Another whimper slips from Tom’s lips, and he feels Troth smile against his skin.

She bites him again, harder this time, and accompanied by a particularly firm roll of her hips. Tom lets out a high-pitched yelp that turns into a broken moan when Troth swiftly grabs his wrists and pins them above his head. She pulls back for a second to gauge his reaction, and Tom nods his head vehemently.

“ _Yes_ , gods yes, Troth, _please_ …”

The look that Troth gives him is filled with such fondness that Tom is afraid his heart might burst. “Of course, my love.”

She leans down to capture Tom’s lips in a bruising kiss, pressing her body against his and gripping his wrists in a less-than-gentle hold (just the way he likes it). Tom can’t last long like this, completely enveloped in the cradle of Troth’s body and unable to move. His entire being thrums with the intensity of her love, and he thinks of nothing but her as he cries out and comes with stars in his eyes.

It takes Tom a moment to come back to his senses, and when he does Troth is peppering his chest with small, slow kisses. He reaches out to stroke one of her horns and she looks up at him with a smile.

“How do you feel, my love?” she asks with her cheek pillowed on his chest and her hand drawing small circles against his side.

Tom sighs contentedly, closing his eyes. “Completely blissed out.” He shifts slightly and grimaces. “A little sticky, though.”

Troth laughs softly. “So am I, it would seem.” She presses one more kiss to his chest before a bounce in the mattress indicates her departure. “One moment, please.”

Tom makes a small noise of assent, still too sated to open his eyes. He hears Troth’s feet pad around the room for a moment, then feels the soft touch of cloth on his stomach. He finally opens his eyes to see Troth cleaning away his come with a washcloth, first him, then her own belly. Once finished she throws the cloth into a corner and crawls back into bed, wrapping her arms around Tom and pulling him close.

“You talk about me being good to you, but that was fantastic,” Tom mutters against Troth’s chest. Troth hums happily and kisses the crown of his head.

“I can only pray that I am able to return the pleasure that you bring me,” she whispers into his hair.

Tom doesn’t have Troth’s way with words, but he gets what she means. Tom would do anything in his power to make Troth feel the way he does when he’s with her, because with Troth, Tom fears nothing. With Troth, Tom is able to find respite from the cacophony of worries that fill his head. With Troth, Tom’s anxiety melts away to be replaced with the love and warmth and kindness that seem to flow from Troth like an endless fountain that Tom would be glad to drink from forever.

With Troth, Tom is _safe_ , and he doesn’t think he will ever be able to fully elucidate to her just how much that means to him.

But when he looks up and sees the love in his heart mirrored in Troth’s eyes, Tom thinks she understands.

**Author's Note:**

> I've jumped on this small but mighty ship thanks to kismetNemesis; please go read her fics if you haven't already, they're so good. Her fic "safe with you", co-written with Sacalow, is direct inspiration for this fic, and her other Tom/Troth fics also influenced how I wrote the characters, especially how Troth gets off on Tom making noise and Tom being into Troth calling him "her Tom".


End file.
